by Jane Isaac
A paramedic was standing beside the open doors of the ambulance. Inside Cara sat with a blanket around her shoulders. She’d fainted after her brother’s fall. They had to wait until she’d regained consciousness and the paramedics were with her before they’d descended the stairs.
Cara’s ghostly face stared up at her. ‘Is it true that he’s…’ Her voice splintered, her lip quivering as a tear dripped to the floor.
Beth nodded. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Cara’s shoulders jittered under the blanket. ‘It’s all my fault,’ she said.
‘No. You mustn’t blame yourself.’
‘Oh, you’re wrong. I am to blame. I’m to blame for everything.’
The intensity of her tone struck a chord inside Beth. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It was me that took Alicia. I was responsible for her death. If she hadn’t died, Dan would still be alive.’
48
Cara’s confession floored Beth. She’d been scratchy during questioning, protective over her brother, taken steps to contact the chief constable to express concern for Daniel’s welfare. Yet not at any point did Beth think she might be responsible.
Still reeling, she viewed Cara Owen across the Formica table now. The woman had been surprisingly quiet on the short journey across town to the nearest station at Campbell Square, her face taut like a mannequin. They’d had to wait for her to be checked over by the paramedics before they left, then wait another hour for her to be checked over by the force doctor when they arrived. It was almost 5 p.m. by the time they were able to commence interviewing.
‘In the ambulance earlier, you confessed to the murder of Alicia Owen,’ Beth said.
Cara’s face crumpled. ‘It wasn’t murder. I said I was responsible for her death. That’s very different.’
‘Okay.’ Beth stretched out the syllables and exchanged a sideways glance with Pete who was taking notes beside her. Freeman and Nick would be watching remotely through the camera in the corner of the room. Possibly even the superintendent with them. She needed to take it gently. This was one of the biggest cases Northamptonshire Police had faced; one of their greatest disappointments. With so much time lapse, Cara’s account would be crucial. She couldn’t afford for her to clam up. ‘Can you tell us exactly what happened on the day Alicia disappeared?’ she asked.
Cara’s eyes shifted from side to side, as if she was sharing a confidence. ‘I took her, from outside the supermarket. I took her and she died. But it was an accident. It wasn’t meant to happen.’ The words were gabbled out so fast they merged together.
‘Alright,’ Beth said slowly. ‘Let’s go through this step by step. Why did you take her?’
‘I’m not sure exactly. I hadn’t planned to, it all happened so quickly.’ She shook her head, as if to shake away the bad thoughts. ‘I’d been to an appointment at the clinic in Kingsthorpe Hollow, received some bad news.’
‘Oh?’
‘John, my husband, and me, we were trying for a baby. We’d been trying for some time. And they told me…’ her lip quivered. ‘They told me our latest attempt at IVF hadn’t worked. I was distraught, couldn’t get hold of John. I remember driving through Kingsthorpe and stopping at Acre Lane shops – I’m not even sure what I stopped for now – anyway, I saw Alicia’s pram outside the supermarket. Recognised it straight away, my mother bought it for her when she was born. She’d chosen it specially because of the burgundy hood and the car seat that fitted into the top.’ A tight breath. ‘I pulled into the road at the top, parked up.’
‘Why didn’t you use the car park?’ Beth asked, picturing the scene in her mind.
‘Oh, there was often broken glass and stuff in there. Kids hung around the shops in the evenings. John didn’t like the car in there. We always parked on the road nearby.’
Beth nodded for her to continue.
‘I assumed Marie and Alicia were both in the shop. I wanted to hold the baby. Just for a minute.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I crossed the road and found Alicia outside.’
She stared at Beth, her eyes imploring a response. Beth said nothing.
‘I was worried about Marie. We all were. She hadn’t been right since the birth, since she’d lost Liam. We rallied around, trying to help. After the funeral she wanted to be alone. Let herself go. She was losing her grip. You only have to see how little Alicia was dressed that day. She had some beautiful dresses, wanted for nothing, yet she was wearing a towelling vest and a nappy. And she’d left her asleep in the car seat clipped to the top of the pram in full sun! I’d bit my tongue until then, tried to be supportive but, you know, she might have lost one child, but she still had another. It was almost as if she didn’t want her.
‘I considered going into the supermarket to look for Marie but I didn’t want to leave the little one. So, I waited outside and pushed her up the path a bit, to get her out of the sun.’ She dropped her eyes. ‘And I kept pushing. Before I knew it, we’d reached my car and I’d lifted the baby seat off and fastened it into my passenger seat and placed the changing bag in the back.’
Cara began to wring her hands, one after the other. ‘I didn’t mean to take her. Not really. I wanted to give Marie a fright. To make her appreciate what she had. I was so thrilled when Marie fell pregnant, so looking forward to having a baby in the family. And she pushed me away. She pushed us all away.’ She dropped her hands into her lap.
‘What happened then?’ Beth asked.
‘I left the pram near the shops. I was angry; I wasn’t thinking straight.’ She raised her eyes, met Beth’s gaze. ‘You have to believe me, my mind blanked. I didn’t think about the fuss it would cause, or what would happen afterwards. I just went through the motions of getting Alicia home. Keeping her safe.’
Silence hung heavy in the room. ‘Where did you take her?’ Beth asked.
‘I drove straight home. We lived on the edge of Kingsthorpe at the time, it only took around ten minutes.’ A faraway look filled her face. ‘Bless her. She slept the whole time. I meant to phone Dan when I got there but when I walked through the front door, she woke up and started to cry. I changed her nappy and that didn’t make a difference. Fed her some milk solution from her changing bag. As soon as she finished her feed she started crying again. I panicked. Didn’t want to call Dan while she was distressed. And then John came home.’ She paused, looked away, reliving the memory in her mind.
‘He assumed I was babysitting at first. Took Alicia off me, winded and rocked her. Time was passing and I was aware Marie would be starting to worry. I hadn’t planned this. So, I told him what I’d done. And he went ballistic. Started shouting at me, told me I was wrong in the head and just because we couldn’t have our own children, I shouldn’t take someone else’s. I hadn’t taken her though, she was family. I truly believed if Marie missed Alicia for a while, she’d realise how lucky she was; see she needed help. He wouldn’t listen. The more he shouted, the more Alicia screamed. He refused to talk it through. Stormed into the kitchen with the baby. I followed, pleading with him to stop shouting. He grabbed his phone. I tried to take her off him. He wouldn’t let go. We wrestled. I thought I had her.’ Cara’s face froze. ‘One minute I’d pulled her away, the next she was falling. We both tried to reach for her. Her head cracked as it hit the table edge. She went quiet. And I knew straight away, she was…’
Tears spilled out of Cara’s eyes, dribbling down her face. ‘And then she was on the floor and there was blood. So much blood. Spilling out of the back of her head. And all I could hear was the breeze outside whooshing through the trees. We both flew to her side. Her little head sat at such an awkward angle. She must have died instantly.’
‘Why didn’t you call for an ambulance?’
‘There was no point. There wasn’t anything anyone could do.’
‘We sat there on the floor beside her for ages. Then John got up and closed the windows, even though there was nobody nearby – our neighbour was in Spain on holiday. He said we sho
uld call the police, hand ourselves in, explain the situation. It was an accident, after all. But would they believe us? I’d been under the doctor, on and off anti-depressants. It was no secret we desperately wanted children of our own. The more we talked about it, the more we realised what we’d done. I’d taken our niece and she’d died in our care. The family would turn against us. We’d be charged with manslaughter, or murder. The pain, the upset it would cause to my mother, my brother, to so many people.’ She placed a fist to her mouth and took a breath.
‘And that’s when John decided we should conceal the body, bury it. I was against the idea at first but what alternative was there?’
‘Why did you bury her in concrete?’ Beth asked. The question that had been niggling her for so long.
Cara flinched. ‘John was… pedantic. Every border perfect, every corner straight, every shrub pruned to perfection. He considered everything in the minutest of detail. Once we’d decided we couldn’t own up, he set about planning how to dispose of her. Many bodies turn up days, weeks, months, years after the event. You hear about it in the news, don’t you? He said he’d make sure that wasn’t going to happen to us. That’s why he didn’t tell me where she was.’
Beth sat forward. ‘Are you saying you didn’t know where Alicia was buried?’
Cara nodded. ‘I knew she was in a field, somewhere remote. That’s all. He buried her alone. Carefully planned it all out beforehand. He said she’d need a deep hole. Deep enough to avoid any machinery so she wouldn’t be disturbed. When you dig deep into the subsoil and replace it afterwards it takes a while to compress and settle. That’s why you see mounds over new graves. Being landscape gardeners, we knew to avoid that. Someone might notice a mound of earth. He’d have to rearrange some of the soil, to make it flat, and when it compacted a sinkhole would form. He went into so much detail. Decided to put in a structure to avoid this. That’s why he used the concrete. It held up the earth above.’
A tight gasp. ‘I wasn’t keen. The idea of Alicia being covered in concrete…’ A strangled sob escaped. ‘I couldn’t bear it. He said she’d be safe there. No insects would get to her, no animals could dig her up.’
Beth sat back and surveyed her a minute, recollecting Cara’s remark about there being nothing left of the body when she first visited Daniel. She’d thought she was safe.
‘Before I knew it, he was down the shed making a wooden frame to enclose the block and mixing concrete,’ Cara said. ‘He told me to clean up, get her ready. I changed her nappy, put on a clean vest. I wanted to dress her up, lay her to rest properly, but there weren’t any clothes in the changing bag. I covered her in the shawl, leaving one arm out. That’s how she liked to sleep. She was always wriggling that left arm out from the covers.’ Another tear meandered down her cheek. ‘Poor little soul. I used to worry that she would be cold, stuck in there, underground. Had nightmares for months afterwards, thinking of her tiny body shivering. The shrillness of her cry.’
‘When did he bury her?’ Beth asked.
‘The following night. We had to wait for the concrete to set and—’ a ragged breath ‘—when Dan phoned and told us she was missing, John said people would expect us to join the search.’ She closed her eyes a second. ‘I felt like a robot. Cleaning up, washing away the blood, changing my clothes. Then walking the streets, knocking on doors, wandering over fields. All the time knowing she was in our shed.’
The dull buzz of the light bulb filled the room.
‘What happened the following night?’ Beth asked.
‘John waited until after dark. The concrete block was already in the barrow. John removed the wooden frame. I helped him wheel it into the back of the van. I remember the low drone of his engine as he left the driveway. Sitting in the front room in darkness, biting my nails, imagining where he’d gone, what was happening. When he came back, he said he’d buried her somewhere she’d never been found.’
‘Did you talk about it?’
‘I wanted to. John wouldn’t have any of it. I was beside myself. Jumped at every phone call, every knock at the door. Was convinced someone had seen something and would call the police. I pleaded with John to tell me where she was so I could visit her. He refused to tell me. Said it was better for me if I didn’t know. As time passed, I forced myself to believe he was right. I had to. Otherwise I’d go insane.’
Beth had scrutinised the case notes from the original file. Cara hadn’t been a suspect in the original investigation because she had an alibi. ‘According to your client, you were on a gardening job on the other side of town on the day Alicia disappeared.’
‘I was first thing. I popped out to go to the clinic, then didn’t feel like going back to work. I billed the client for the full day, they had no idea.’
Silence lingered for several seconds.
‘John started drinking afterwards,’ Cara said. ‘He always liked his drink, but he hit the bottle hard after Alicia’s death. Started having a chaser of spirits with his beer, usually whisky. Then he’d just have a whisky. I didn’t notice at first. I guess we both hit the bottle a bit and we were trying to…’ Her voice cut. She cleared her throat. ‘We were trying to support the family. Dan was in a terrible state. Marie had to be sedated. We were all questioned by the police. My mother was at her wits’ end. I managed my drinking. As the days and months passed, John became more and more elusive. I’d come home from work and find him drunk. Sometimes he polished off a whole bottle of whisky in an evening.
‘And he was pulling back from the business, leaving the brunt of the work to me. I tried to confront him, but I couldn’t get through. I suppose, after what he’d done for me, I deserved it. We carried on like that for years. Him drinking, me working. Neither of us talking. Going through the motions of life. People around us put it down to shock over losing Alicia. It was dreadful. Marie and Dan separated, and my mother died. I was consumed with the family, desperately trying to keep Daniel buoyant. John moved into the spare room and we became strangers, sharing a house. Then one morning, I got up for work and found him on the bathroom floor. He’d choked on his own vomit in the night. And I thought, that’s my penance for what happened to baby Alicia.’
She hung her head. ‘People rallied around me after he died, and I ignored them. Disappeared into myself, couldn’t accept the sympathy. That’s why I live alone now. I don’t deserve company. I don’t deserve to be loved.’
A tear spotted the table as she looked up. ‘I wanted to tell Marie so many times, to let her know her baby died instantly. But I couldn’t bear to lose Dan. He was everything to me. Always there when I needed him. Now he’s gone…’ She reached out, grabbed Beth’s wrist. Circles of white forming around her fingers. ‘You must tell Marie her baby didn’t suffer. That I never meant to torment her. You must.’
49
Beth’s mind was racing when she arrived at headquarters, shortly after 7 p.m. Cara’s glassy eyes while the charge was read out, imprinted on her brain; the woman’s zombie feet scraping the floor as she was led to her cell.
The car park was quiet. She reached the back door to the station, rested a fleeting hand on the door handle, then released it and gazed back out into the night.
Cops saw more than their fair share of suffering in their careers. Trauma and tragedy were expected. Beth had attended plenty of incidents and delivered more death messages than she dared remember. Some stayed with her, like the panic-stricken man whose wife and two children died in a house fire while he was working the night shift. ‘But I only left them five hours ago,’ he’d said. ‘They were cuddled up on the sofa watching Strictly Come Dancing.’
Empathise and support. Remain objective. Don’t take it personally. That’s what their police training taught them.
Problem was, no matter how professional and detached you tried to remain, for a liaison officer it became personal. These were people she worked closely with. People she got to know, spending time researching their backgrounds in order to provide much-needed support. S
itting on their sofas, making tea and coffee in their kitchens. They shared personal thoughts, intimate details. And sometimes it was impossible to switch off that investment.
Daniel Owen’s face flashed before her. The desperation in his ice-blue eyes. The glimpse of his weak smile, before he fell to his death.
The crippling sadness of his sister’s admission of an incident that shredded her immediate family into tiny pieces and ruined the lives of so many.
The wind swirled around Beth. She leaned up against the cold bricks and stared out across the dimly lit car park. They’d found Daniel’s lorry parked outside his home. He’d driven back, picked up his car and headed to the car park.
An ambulance blared out as it passed on the nearby dual carriageway. A bird flapped in a tree nearby, momentarily disturbed on its roost. She was beginning to think about going inside when she heard the door click open.
Nick hunched his shoulders as he joined her. ‘That wind’s a killer.’
Beth felt a chill run through her, noticing the cold for the first time. She folded her arms across her chest, tucking in the final remnants of heat.
‘You okay?’ His forehead creased in concern.
She’d worked the case like any other, pushing aside her feelings to process the scene and interview her suspect. Now that was over, the horror of the situation hit her like a freight train. Along with a repeat of that ugly question: Could she have said or done anything differently? Could she have stopped Daniel Owen falling to his death…
‘I will be.’ She looked away.
‘It’ll be alright,’ Nick said gently, reaching out, snaking his arms around her. Drawing her close.
‘I know.’ Instinctively, Beth checked over her shoulder.
‘There’s no one here.’ He pressed a kiss on her forehead and for once she didn’t worry about the public show of affection.
